


Crybaby

by The_starstruck_prince



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: my boy......., my sweet babe.............
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2017-06-19
Packaged: 2018-11-15 23:50:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11241861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_starstruck_prince/pseuds/The_starstruck_prince
Summary: Michael’s never been one to be nauseous at the idea of blood, but with the overpowering, thick, coppery taste spilling from his nose and a cut on his lip, everything around him seemed to spin.





	Crybaby

**Author's Note:**

> This is based off of a Michael fanart by the lovely @umbratyke on tumblr, go check them out!! <3

Michael had taken his fair share of beatings growing up as the weird kid; He and Jeremy both, actually. They had fallen on the short end of the “it’s cool to beat up nerds” trend that prevailed during middle and high school. Of course, they had become less frequent in the past few years, their more popular peers growing disinterested once Michael learned to defend himself and Jeremy feverishly avoiding them.

Michael never would have guessed that he would find himself in that situation again.

Especially when the person with a handful of his jacket and a fist raised against him would be _Jeremy Heere_.

Before, Jeremy’s squip just had him ignore and avoid Michael. _This_ was new, volatile and explosive. 

Now, Michael is almost laying on the cool pavement, suspended the last few inches by Jeremy’s grip on the bright fabric of his jacket; Michael is briefly reminded of a bull who sees a red flag. All he can do is stare at Jeremy as he looms above him. 

Jeremy’s eyes are unreadable, and Michael feverishly searches them for any sign of remorse, resistance, some part of the old Jeremy that’s been locked away who can’t help but watch as he pummels his best friend into the uneven concrete behind the school. 

And all he sees is cold anger. 

He hadn’t done anything to provoke him, either. He was following routine- last bell rings, grab all his things, slip out the side door of the cafeteria and circle to the back of the school and walk home. The same routine he’s followed since freshman year, the same routine he and _Jeremy_ had followed every single day without fail. 

He had noticed the small group of students lounging against the wall, noticed now the scent of weed clung to the air, noticed how he could feel every set of eyes staring burning a hole into him. 

The rest was just a blur. Michael remembers feeling a hand grab his shoulder, turn him around, and a fist connect with his face. Everything was numb as he stumbled backwards, seeing stars. 

Michael’s never been one to be nauseous at the idea of blood, but with the overpowering, thick, coppery taste spilling from his nose and a cut on his lip, everything around him seemed to spin. He weakly grabs at Jeremy’s wrist, trying to pull himself up, but he’s released, falling on the ground with a grunt. 

He takes a deep breath, pressing his eyes shut and hoping that this is all a dream, or over, at the very least. 

He hears the scuff of a shoe, and pain spreads like a flash of lightning across his ribs. He rolls over, curls up and rakes in a shuddering breath, bracing himself for another hit, but nothing else comes. 

“ _Loser,_ ” Jeremy sneers, spitting on the ground next to him and slinking off. 

Michael wants desperately to believe that _that_ was _not_ his best friend, but he can’t bring himself to do it. 

 

_Why didn’t you fight back? You’re bigger than him, you could’ve-_

Michael stands in his bathroom, cleaning the blood from his face.

_He wouldn’t have stood a chance, he has no idea how to fight for himself-_

His lip trembles as tears spill over, clinging to his eyelashes. He pushes his glasses off, lets them clatter into the sink as he leans against the wall, sliding down to the floor. He doesn’t bother trying to be quiet either; he lets his shoulders shake and his breath hitch as he gasps for breath, trying to curl into himself to make his chest hurt a little less. 

_Why are you such a crybaby? You knew this would happen eventually-_

Everything aches, inside and out. He feels the bruise on his ribs throb painfully in time to his headache. His tongue swipes across his lip in habit, flinching when it crosses the split skin.

He wished he could forget the look in Jeremy's eyes, but it’s burned into his mind.

_He hates you for being so lame-_

Michael cries till he's too exhausted to do anything but quiver and whimper pathetically- eventually he drags himself to his bed and falls asleep, fully dressed on top of the duvet.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr, @the-starstruck-prince or @drabbles-of-a-cosmonaut !! <3


End file.
